


Prison Break, alternative writing

by f0rgedby_fantasy



Category: Prison Break
Genre: F/M, prison break - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:01:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23351350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/f0rgedby_fantasy/pseuds/f0rgedby_fantasy
Summary: One large factor in the Fox River 8's breakout was John Abruzzi's grown up daughter... Who takes a liking to Lincoln.Some things will be different - Lincoln won't be with Veronica but with the reader.
Relationships: John Abruzzi/Theodore "T-Bag" Bagwell/Lincoln Burrows/Michael Scofield/Fernando Sucre, Lincoln Burrows & Michael Scofield, Lincoln Burrows/Derek Sweeney, Lincoln Burrows/Lisa Rix, Lincoln Burrows/Michael Scofield, Lincoln Burrows/Michael Scofield/Fernando Sucre, Lincoln Burrows/Michael Scofield/Sara Tancredi, Lincoln Burrows/Reader, Lincoln Burrows/Sara Tancredi, Lincoln Burrows/Veronica Donovan, Theodore "T-Bag" Bagwell/Lincoln Burrows
Comments: 5
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

As she sat waiting at the table, she looked around nervously at the other visitors and the guards.

(Y/n) took a deep breath, making it as stubtle as possible to those watching her. There were a few. Regular wives, lawyers, families with their children... It almost made her feel guilty for not visiting more often. But then she saw the dirty looks by the COs, the judgment on the faces of the other people visiting - which she thought ridiculous since they were all there for the same purpose; to see incarcerated loved ones. 

The way she had dressed was perhaps not quite appropriate for a male prison; she'd worn a sheer white blouse with a tight, small black vest top underneath, tucked neatly into a pair of black, vinyl, shiny leggings. 

She glanced down at her shoes - Alexander Mqueen trainers, the ones with the thick white soles and black details. 

She suddenly felt sheepish, and slid her sunglasses down from her head onto her face. She peaked over the top of the black, narrow lenses. Her eyes stayed on the door where the inmates entered from. 

The bell sounded and men began to walk through, one by one. 

Men she didn't know, some she recognised, whether it be from the news, or her father's connections. 

Then she saw him. Her eyes met his, and he froze. She hadn't realised she had gotten to her feet until she found herself walking towards him. 

He didn't move. 

"Hi daddy."

John pounced on his daughter, holding her as tightly as he could before the COs could force him off. At first she wasn't sure if he was happy to see her, or he was angry at her coming. She knew he hated for his family to see him like this. 

He breathed in her smell before he pushed her away, only to hold her at an arms' length and look at her face. He was smiling, and she couldn't help but smile back. It was infectious, and she wanted nothing more than to hold onto that moment. 

They sat opposite one another at the table she had been assigned, and (Y/N) was suddenly very aware of all the other inmates watching. 

"Don't mind them," John chuckled. "Its not often my family comes to see me, now is it?"

Reaching forward, (Y/N) pulled down John's shirt collar and assessed the scar at this throat. Last time she'd seen it he could barely breathe.

'You're healing well," she said, as she sat back.

"Good doctors," he smiled.

He was too happy, too peppy. It made her feel uncertain.

"How are Sylvia and the kiddies?" He asked.

"Good", she told him. "The twins always ask about you... They did a show and tell at school last week, tried to take your pistol in.

John laughed.

"Not funny, dad," she said sarcastically. She rarely ever called him Dad. "Sylvia was raging." 

He coughed, pretending to take things seriously. 

There was a pause. 

"Why did you ask me to visit, John?"

He glanced around, checking how close other people were, how many people might be listening. 

"Things are in motion."

Her eyes narrowed at him over her shades. "Things?"

"Hasn't Falzone kept you in the loop?" He asked. "I asked him to brief you on all the happenings in here so you can best assist the plan."

She knew exactly what he was talking about. 

The escape plan.

The thing was, Falzone wasn't feeling particularly helpful with the details. (Y/n) had the suspicion that Falzone was rather enjoying keeping the Don's seat in the Abruzzi Family Mob warm. She knew, Falzone had gotten comfortable and wasn't going to be offering a lot of help in getting John outside the prison walls any time soon. They needed a plane, a plane being supposedly sorted by some other Mob memebers... But it was quiet. That concerned (Y/n). 

"When?" She asked. 

John shrugged. "Not certain, a week, maybe a few days."

"Could do with a little more detail if you expect me to be waiting outside those walls."

John stiffened. 

"Mob family will sort all that out. I'll send for you."

'John-" she sighed. "Dad."

"I trust you more than all of them..." he leaned in and spoke quieter. "Love you more than all of them. When this goes down, I don't want you - or Sylvie and the kids anywhere near. What I need you to take care of, is them. Same as always."

"They won't be," she assured. "They'll be going on vacation in two days time. Flights are booked, Sylvia is packing as we speak." 

"Good girl," John praised. 

"How many?"

John hesitated. "As it stands, six other guys. I'm hoping to drop some weight by then." 

"I hope you do too." She paused. "Who?" John leaned closer again, "Michael Schofield, Lincoln Burrows, Fernando Sucre, Theodore Bagwell, Benjamin Franklin, and Charles Westmoreland."


	2. Research

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Y/n) looks into the men breaking out with Abruzzi, and plans to go back to Fox River to speak with Michael.

(Y/N) sat in the big leather chair behind the desk, looking at the blank screen on her father's desktop. She had not often been allowed in the office before, and never by herself. That changed when he was incarcerated and needed information off that computer. He couldn't ask Sylvia, she needed to have the plausible deniability that would allow her to maintain custody of her young children if anything was to ever happen to John. He didn't trust any of the other Abruzzi Family Mob members enough to sift through the files of sensitive (and rather illegal) information stored... And so (y/n) had to step up.

She and John had a very unusual father-daughter relationship. He hadn't always been the best parent to her, and only really got better at it when he met and married Sylvia. (Y/n) had been a teenager when Sylvia and John got married. She'd grown up always being at arm's length, almost being prepped to enter the Mafia on a less formal basis. Sylvia changed that, and took a much more motherly role in her life than (Y/n) had ever expected anyone to. 

She shook the deep family thoughts from her mind, and began spinning off the six men's names her father had told her would also be breaking out. It was so important they didn't mess this up, and the more people involved the more dangerous it got. She began tapping away at the keys on the keyboard. She needed to know more about these men.

Michael Schofield. Structural Engineer... Smart. He got a degree, a good job and nice apartment. One day walks into a bank and holds the place up at gun point. Michael obtained a jail sentence purposefully get in to take action with the breakout. Serving a 5 year sentence.

Lincoln Burrows. _Hello,_ she thought, looking at the handsome face in the mugshot. _Moving on_... Sentenced to death for the murder of Vice President Reynold's brother, Terrence Steadmen. He was innocent of the murder, the whole point of the escape was to get this man out. Looking further back, (Y/n) saw he had previously been convicted of theft, criminal damage, drug possession, and battery... easy target to pin a murder on. They called him the "crazy white rhino", with a huge temper and the braun to match, it wasn't hard for the public to believe this man had committed murder. 

Fernando Sucre. Held up a liquor store to get enough money to buy an engagement ring for his girl. 5 years.

Benjamin Miles Franklin. Also known as "C-Note"... This one was harder to crack. His arrest wasn't as public as some of the other inmates. Infact, (Y/N) really had to dig up the information. It seemed he was dishonorably discharged from the army, and a few weeks after getting home, he was arrested for the possession of stolen goods. 8 years.

Theodore Bagwell... This was a very easy one to look into. Known by most as "T-bag", Theodore was arrested for first degree murder, the kidnapping and raping of children. (Y/N) seriously hoped that he was one John could leave behind... Life sentence. 

Charles Westmoreland. This guy was...Arrested for vehicular man-slaughter. _But,_ rumour had it, he was _the_ D.B Cooper of the infamous hijacking. He'd already served 32 years of a life sentence. 

And then, of course there was John. 

Her father was convicted and sentenced for two accounts of conspiracy to murder... He got 120 years without parole. (Y/n) had considered this to be rather excessive. Why not just give him a life sentence? 120 years.... 

There was a small but frantic knock on the office door. She snapped out of her daze and shut the page down.

"(Y/n)?" Called the small child from the other side of the door. 

Smiling, she went to the door and let herself out. 

There was Junior, grabbing onto her thighs and looking up at her. He buried his face into her legs, and she stroked the top of his head, fluffing up the mousey-brown hair that clouded his eyes. 

"Did you see Daddy?" Asked another little voice from somewhere in the corridor round the corner. 

Nicole appeared in front of (Y/n), looking for somewhere she could slide into the embrace. 

"I did," (Y/n) extended an arm out to the little dark haired child, letting her slip in beside her twin brother. 

They were six years old, and were the bravest kids she'd ever come across. They couldn't have really understood what their father had done, or where he was, or that he was never coming out... Theoretically. 

"Was he good?" Junior asked. 

"Yeah!" (Y/n) told them. "He was great! He's been going to church, and hanging out with his friends. Says he wants you guys to be good, and listen to your Mom."

They giggled. 

"Wanna come play with us and Mommy?" Nicole begged, almost dragging her older sister towards the kitchen.

(Y/n) could never say no to these two, and glancing up at her step mother smiling from the kitchen doorway, she quickly turned to lock the office. Sliding the key in her pocket, she tested the door wouldn't open, and when satisfied with the security of the room, followed the kids. 

"Think you'll go back soon?" Sylvia asked, passing her step daughter a glass of lemonade.

"I think I'll come with you tomorrow, actually," she said quietly, debating if she should follow through with the next sentence. "But not to see Dad..."


	3. Michael

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting Michael

"Who are you meeting, again?" Sylvia kept asking. 

They were entering the prison as a family, all queuing amongst the other visitors waiting to be let in. 

"I told you, his name is Michael."

Junior and Nicole were running around, being irritating. They kept smacking one and other, laughing, running off and then getting angry at the other because they hit too hard.

"How do you know this man?" Sylvia asked as she grabbed the back of Junior's t-shirt, almost pulling him over. 

"Through Dad." 

(Y/N) put her foot out to trip up Nicole as she tried to run past. The little girl caught her left foot on her sister's shoe, quickly losing her balance and fell. Just before she hit the hard floor, (Y/n) caught her arm and yanked her back up to her feet. She glared at her, a silent message to behave herself, and the little girl immediately obeyed. 

"You would tell me if something was going on, wouldn't you?" Sylvia asked quietly. 

"Absolutely not," (Y/n) told her flatly, as they opened the doors. 

John was already sat down, and he stood up as soon as he saw them enter the room. He picked the twins up, one on each arm and Sylvia slid in the middle, giving him a kiss and his cheeks a squeeze. 

It was moments like this that (Y/n) felt least like family. As hard as Sylvia tried, and as much as her siblings loved her, it didn't stop the awkward elephant in the room... John was a different man with them. She didn't think it was deliberate, Sylvia just brought out a more fatherly side in him, and the twins were too cute. 

(Y/n)'s mother had left John when she was quite young - 8 maybe? She wasn't exactly sure. Her mother had been a con artist; lived and loved the Mafia lifestyle John offered. But one day, her mother left. She remembered the day it happened, she went out that day for work, and just didn't come home. They thought the job had gone wrong until John tracked her credit card trail to London, England. He had connections there who told him she was alive, well and thriving the con artist life. (Y/n) occasionally received a postcard for her birthday, but never more. She had decided she didn't want to be a parents to her daughter anymore, unfortunately, her daughter had been the last to know. 

John's hand on her shoulder snapped her out of the intrusive, reminiscent thoughts. 

She kissed his face, and then patted his cheek as she continued walking to the empty table across the room. 

'What is she doing?" John asked Sylvia, who could only shrug, and give her husband a questionable look. 

Then, Michael entered through the doors, and sat opposite the girl. John stiffened, but could only sit with the rest of his family and try to concentrate on them.

"I thought Abruzzi only had young children," Michael said, assessing the young woman opposite, trying to gage if she was the real deal.

(Y/N) shrugged, "surprise."

Michael looked over his shoulder at Abruzzi with the kids and his wife.

"Quite the age gap."

She nodded, "nineteen years."

Michael's eyebrows raised. "I'm surprised your mom was still... operational that many years later."

"Not that it's any of your business, but she's not my mom," (Y/n) looked over at the dark haired lady across the room, and smiled. "And she knows nothing, has nothing to do with any of this. I'd like to keep it that way."

Michael smirked. "Plausible deniability? Smart."

She shrugged again. "I've been told you're the smart one, Michael."

He then, with a smirk, shrugged. He clearly thought he was being hilarious, copying her.

"I've been told to keep you out of all of this," he glanced over at Abruzzi. "Your father would like to go to some lengths to ensure that his family isn't involved."

"They'll be on a plane tomorrow night," (Y/N) told him. "Vacation."

Michael frowned. "That does include you, you know?"

She shook her head. "No. I go away too, and it looks too suspicious."

He narrowed his eyes at her.

"Look, I'm not trying to ruin anything. I don't need to know details, but you need to know that if this goes sideways at all, I'll be around."

Michael leaned forward. "You'll be around?"

"Yeah, in case you need a plan B"

"I already have a plan B."

He was so quick, and cold with his responses. Very unappreciative of her offered help.

She looked over Michael's shoulder at the inmate in the security box. It was Lincoln. He was being visited by some guy, a lawyer looking type man in a suit. He wasn't looking at his visitor, he was looking at her. She stared him down, not shaking the eye contact. Abruzzi always told her, if you break eye contact first, it shows a weakness. The way he stared at her didn't scare her, it was like he was confused... Probably wondering why she was seeing Michael. 

"I get that you want to be around to help your dad if he needs it, but we got this-"

She snapped her attention back to the man in front of her.

"Michael, you know how the alphabet works, right?"

He smirked again. He didn't want to admit it, but he liked her persistence. 

"I don't require your permission to be there for my Dad, it's not about you," her eyes flicked to the table Abruzzi sat at. Her gaze settled on the twins. "It's not even just about him, either." 


	4. Missed flights

(Y/N) had watched all the men come over the wall, she had seen them hide and then try to run... She knew where they were going, and she was already at the airfield. She waited patiently, sitting in the driver's seat of the blacked out mini van she had borrowed. She had parked in a small clearing in the trees beside the runway. She had gotten in through a gap in the fencing she had cut herself. Her entry and exit point. 

She knew they would be on foot, and so she would have to wait a little while. It was about 5 miles to the airstrip. 

Watching helplessly, (Y/N) saw the security guy questioning the pilot, and she knew that it wouldn't be long until the plane would be forced to make a swift exit. She was getting fidgety; couldn't sit still. 

She went to chew her perfectly manicured nails, but managed to stop herself with a quick clap of her hands. 

"Come on," she whispered. "Come on, come on."

That was when the stair to the plane went up.

"No," she sighed. "No, no no no no!"

She started the engine, knowing she would be needed soon. 

Just as the plane began to pick up speed on the runway, she saw six men running onto the tarmac - waving their arms and shouting helplessly as the plane virtually soared over their heads. They shouts and cries were accompanied by the sound of sirens. 

Sticking her foot to the floor, (Y/N) sped the van out onto the runway, and - rather impressively - turned, and slid to a perfect drifting halt right in front of the men. 

They stood staring at the van. 

Throwing open her door, she shouted, "what are you waiting for, an invitation?! _GET IN!_ "

Michael would've smiled if it wasn't such an intense situation. He pushed his brother in the direction of the front passenger seat beside (Y/N), while the other men piled in the back behind. 

John climbed in directly behind his daughter and ruffled her hair. He roughly kissed the top of her head, and gave her shoulder a rough squeeze.

"I knew you'd come through."

(Y/N) had no time to question her father's sudden change in heart about her involvement in the escape, and she sped off back towards the trees.

That was when she noticed that Michael was handcuffed to Bagwell. 

"What the hell?" She whispered. 

John reached forward into the driver's seat, and pulled the pistol (Y/N) had stashed down beside the driver's seat. He pointed it to T-Bag's head. The southerner only laughed. 

(Y/N) had to try her best to block out what was happening behind her and concentrate on the road. The terrain wasn't the easiest, as she was planning to stay off-road as much as she could to stay out of the way of the police. 

"Do _NOT_ get blood in the van!" She shouted.

Lincoln was holding onto the handle above the door, tightly. She glanced over at his white knuckles, and realised she might have been driving a little fast for the type of road they were on. Lincoln then had to fight the urge to grab into the steering wheel as she steered over towards the fencing, but the van broke through a small slice in the fence, and they were out onto a main road. 

(Y/N) then turned the headlights on, and began to slow down, to drive less erratically. 

"Why aren't you driving as fast as you can?" Sucre shouted. 

"Want to get pulled for speeding?!" (Y/N) shouted back. "I don't! My record is clean, and it's staying that way!"

After about 10 minutes on the main road, the van began to slow, and turn off onto a dirt path. 

The van stayed on the dirt road for another two minutes, and stopped. She had just pulled up on the side of the road beside another wooded area. It was dark, and no one could see anything beyond the trees.

"Come on," she said, as she finally made eye contact with Burrows. "We got another vehicle to get to."

They followed her into the woods, all keeping close. Michael and T-Bag tried their best to keep up, but Michael found himself virtually dragging the other man along, and quickly grew tired. 

After what felt like ages of running, they came to a clearing in the trees, with a barn type building. There was a man standing outside, and (Y/N) put her hand up, telling the men behind her to stop. She looked back, and brought a finger to her lips.

They all hung back and watched as she walked over to the man and had a hushed conversation. They watched as they exchanged car keys, and (Y/N) pointed to the general direction of where she had left the van. The man, in turn pointed in the other direction completely, and he turned and ran off towards the van. They then saw her raise a hand up again, telling them to stay where they were as she went inside the barn, and then came out.

She beckoned them all to come in. 

Michael and T-Bag came in first, and before they turned, (Y/N) held up a pair of bolt cutters she had picked up from the corner of the barn. she silently showed it to C-Note, Sucre and Lincoln. 

C-Note and Lincoln suddenly jumped on T-Bag and held him down. (Y/N) came over with the cutters and got the blades around the chain. She was squeezing the handles together as hard as she could, and nothing happened. Sucre politely pushed her aside, and tried himself. Still nothing. 

T-Bag was laughing out loud. "You can't cut through them!" 

Lincoln got up and resisted the urge to kick T-Bag. 

That was when he caught sight on John with the axe. C-Note was still holding T-Bag down, and helpless had to stay there as John swiftly swung the axe with a strong, downward motion onto T-Bag's wrist.

"You... You cut off his..." Sucre stared in disgust and pure horror. "WHAT THE HELL!"

Lincoln felt himself instinctively reach out to (Y/N), ready to stop her from seeing the act. But she was already turned away; she wasn't looking. He watched her grimace as Bagwell screamed with pain, but she didn't turn around. She couldn't bring herself to look at the scene behind her, and she knew better than to make herself look. 

Lincoln went to Michael. Pulling his brother us off the floor, he shook T-Bag's severed hand free from the still attached cuffs. Michael was shaking; it could have been his hand... What if John had missed?! 

"Are we done?!" (Y/N) asked impatiently. 

"We can't just leave him here!" Sucre argued, looking at T-Bag rolling around on the floor. 

"You want to take him with us?!" John asked in shock, almost laughing. 

(Y/N) turned to face them, keeping her eyes well up, focusing on the faces of the men still standing. 

"We need to go," she was almost begging.

Lincoln was holding Michael's arm; steadying his swaying brother. He looked at Sucre, and told him, "let's go."

He nodded to (Y/N), asking her to lead the way. 

She didn't move straight away, and felt her gaze lowering, unable to stop herself from glancing at the man on the floor. But, before she could see anything much, she felt his strong hand on her shoulder, pushing her towards the barn door.


End file.
